Hunted or Hunters?
by AkatsukiLover465
Summary: When our favorite butler and master duo get "captured" by a pair of hunters and an angel, they decide to play a dangerous game and get a free meal or two. (Spoilers, adopted from Resistant Raisin)
1. There Have Been Better First Impressions

**Author's Note: So, it's not like anyone actually reads these things anyway, so I'm going to take a moment to ramble. I have had to do so much work on these goddamn chapters that I seriously hate everything and everyone (excluding, of course, Aiden, who so kindly gifted me this beautiful story and allowed me to totally ruin it with angst and gay).**

 **Editing was a long and tedious process, and if you've read this chapter or the whole story even, before I recommend re-reading it because I've fixed 99.9% of my initial mistakes, changed the verb tense and word choice to something I personally find more workable, and I've added some fun little bonus scenes throughout the story.**

 **Oh, and there's two new chapters. You're welcome, by the way. (By "you're welcome", I mean, "I'm so fucking sorry for taking so long please forgive me may the Lord have mercy on my pathetic procrastinating soul".)**

 **To the newbies! I adopted this from Resistant Raisin a while ago and am doing a piss-poor job of keeping up with it. Please heed the 'T' rating, 'cause there's a heaping helping of coarse language and heavy situations. Thanks.**

 **Chapter One: There Have Been Better First Impressions**

* * *

.

.

.

The boiling Nebraskan sun beats down on the pair of demons standing idly by their car in the mall parking lot.

The older one, Sebastian, he is still called (though it is certainly a rarity that he keep such a name for so long) keeps stealing glances at what appears to be an antique pocket watch, chain trailing from his belt loop.

He would suggest they get a move on, but his master evidently wants to stand in the light a bit longer, and it's far from a servant's place to order such things.

"How can you stand it?" The master's tinny, eternally pre-pubescent voice shatters the silence.

Sebastian hides a smirk, feigning ignorance.

"The heat, my lord? This region is known for its bipolar climate; I'm sure that it will clear up in no time-"

"Don't play coy with me, _dog,"_ The master, Ciel, spits. "This _hunger._ Nearly two hundred years you've been thirsting after my soul, and gone hungry for likely centuries before then. How must it feel, I wonder? To starve for all eternity? How do you cope, Sebastian?"

Sebastian is uncertain of how exactly Ciel had shifted his speech from a whine to a jab at Sebastian's own foolishness, but it's quickly growing tiresome.

"Constant diligence and strength of will, my lord," The elder demon sighs, snapping the pocket watch closed with an audible 'click'. "We really must be going, sir. We're starting to run off schedule, and you know how that troubles me."

Ciel snorts at this. "I've no concern with what troubles you, Sebastian," The master announces, but follows after Sebastian into the vast building, anyway.

.

"Hey, Dean! Get this-"

"Shhhhhhhhh!" Hisses Dean, pressing a finger to his lips. "I'm in the zone, man! I ran out of quarters so I've only got thirty seconds of this heaven."

Sam rolls his eyes at Dean from over the screen of his laptop, anxiously shifting in the plastic chair at the motel room's sketchy-looking desk.

"Dude, I really don't care about that vibrating bed. You're wasting all of our money."

Adjusting the position of his shoulders, Dean burrows deeper into the massaging bed and throws an arm over his eyes. "You're just jealous!"

As soon as the words leave his mouth, the bed abruptly stills, earning a curse from the hunter.

"Now that you're back on Earth," Sam huffs, gesturing to his computer screen, "We can go to our next stop: Nebraska. If we hurry we can get there in a few hours and-"

"Wait, Nebraska?" Dean makes a face as he sat up on the edge of the bed. "Like Redneck, middle of nowhere, Children of the Corn, The Stand, Nebraska?"

"No, the Nebraska on Mars." Sam scoffs. "Yes, that Nebraska. There's been strange storms circling over this small town up in the northeast corner; the town's practically flooded one minute and then it's nice and sunny the next. And loads of power outages have been reported there too. There's definitely some paranormal stuff going on over there. If it's a demon we can probably get some information out of 'em."

"Alright!" the eldest Winchester hollers, jumping up from the bed and immediately going to gather their belongings, tossing items from around the room into worn duffle bags. "Let's get going. I wanna get me some pie before we leave."

Sam shakes his head fondly and sputters a short, airy laugh. "The Apocalypse is upon us and you're still thinking about pie?"

"Damn straight."

"Heh, I'd be worried if you didn't."

.

 _"Must_ we wear such things, Sebastian?" Ciel whines, eyeing his current attire with distaste.

"One must blend in with the times, my lord." Answers the butler, chuckling. "We can't have you wandering about in corsets and petticoats, can we?"

Ciel's cheeks flush an endearing shade of crimson.

"That was _one time_ , Sebastian," The young demon replies through gritted teeth. Sebastian gives him a sickly-sweet false smile, making a great effort to come off just the right amount of patronizing.

"Of course, my lord." Sebastian indulges. Ciel's shoulders slump in defeat as they continue to maneuver their way through the crowded food court, trying to avoid the questionable looking puddles on the floor, as well as not bump into any patrons (who, in Ciel's opinion, are just as revolting as the stains on the ground).

To Ciel, it seems that the closer to the bustling mall's exit they get, the more constricting his clothes are. He isn't sure why, and he absolutely isn't going to ask his butler about this strange feeling (Sebastian would take such great pleasure in mocking him), so he merely tugs at the bottom hem of his shirt, pulling the suffocating fabric away from his throat.

Only when the two demons left the sounds of the food court as the one of the mall's many glass doors slid automatically shut behind them does Ciel finally feel slightly less smothered by his clothes.

Only slightly.

As he takes a moment once again to stop and stretch the collar of his shirt away from his neck and pulled his pants farther down his legs, he is roughly knocked over. He stumbles backward a few clumsy steps before Sebastian manages to catch him, gently straightening the boy up and placing him back on his feet.

With a sharp glare, he snaps at the burly man whose elbow ran into his shoulder. "Oi! A little accident is fine, but at least apologize! Don't just walk away!"

The young male walking beside the man who had knocked the youngest demon over puts a hand to his companion's chest and points in the demons' direction.

"Uh, Dean..."

"Huh? What, Sam?" 'Dean' replies dumbly, shaking his head to free himself from his daze.

Turning around to look in the direction 'Sam' pointed at, his mistake seems to dawn on him.

Slow-witted beast.

Ciel accepts the man's half-hearted 'sorry' with a scoff of annoyance before muttering testily to himself, "Bloody Americans..."

Sebastian gives an amused smirk and ushered his young lord to the mall exit.

"Come now, my lord. We've just enough time for tea before this afternoon's business meetings- not a moment to spare for complaints."

Ciel considers this.

"And there will be sweets?"

Sebastian's master is still such a child, even after almost two hundred years. The boy-demon can't even _taste_ the cakes that Sebastian prepares for him. He wonders why his lord even bothers.

"If you so wish it, sir."

The master frowns deeply.

"Don't give me that _look_ , Sebastian," Ciel sniffs. "It's perfectly reasonable for the owner of an international candy company to enjoy the occasional pastry."

"I never said that it wasn't, my lord."

"You were thinking it."

"Whatever you say, sir."

.

As soon as the kid and the tall man are out of sight, and the pair of hunters had entered the mall, Sam smacks Dean upside the head.

"Dude, that kid's got more manners that you. _And_ he looked about ready to chew you out."

Dean rubs the new tender spot at the back of head and shoots his brother a glare with a small grunt of indignation.

"Well, _excuse me_ , but I was a little preoccupied with the EMF to notice Little High and Mighty," Dean snaps.

"Wait. The EMF?" Sam queries, a look of confusion flashing across his face. "Isn't that supposed to be in the car?"

"Yeah, but I forgot it in my pocket." To prove his point, Dean allows the corner of the instrument to peek out of the pocket of his jacket. "Damn thing was vibrating like crazy."

"I guess we got our demons," Sam comments, frowning thoughtfully. "That was... surprisingly easy."

The hunter rule of thumb in these sort of things is, "if it's easy, you're doing something wrong". It makes the youngest Winchester slightly antsy to think that finding the source of all the trouble was so simple.

"Eh, it's good enough for me." Dean shrugs, eager to get the case over with. Maybe get valuable information out of the demons they're able to interrogate.

"...You do know this means we've gotta skip lunch and deal with this."

Dean pales.

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, but I would," Sam iterates with a grin, prompting Dean to produce the longest, most drawn-out whine ever whined by any grown man, ever. Therefore forcing Sam to give him patented Bitch Face Number 8 until he gets the hint to _shut-the-fuck-up.  
_  
With an exasperated roll of his eyes, Sam grabs Dean by the sleeve and steers his older brother back outside. "Let's just go, dude."


	2. Taken

**Author's Note: Okayyyy so this one gets a tad… boy-lovey. It flat-out implies a physical relationship between the demons… You can take it platonically, maybe? If you really wanna? God, I'm such a worthless fangirl sometimes...**

 **Chapter Two: Taken**

* * *

.

.

.

Ciel's scowl refuses to fade as he watches the two rough-looking men enter the mall and walk out of sight. Without removing his steel gaze, he hesitantly takes a step away from the shopping center, but doesn't take another.

"Sebastian," the boy mumbles to his butler, "I have a strange feeling about those men."

Sebastian only nods and presses a hand to the small of his master's back, silently urging him forward.

" _Don't_ presume to touch me."Ciel snaps, and he is, after everything, still a child.

"Of course, my lord. My apologies," Sebastian assures, not sounding sorry at all.

"Never touch me in such a way again, _dog."_ He growls, deeming it inappropriate for the older demon to even dare to lay hands on him.

The youngest demon's lips twist even further when his butler gives a small, knowing smirk. _("Are you sure, master? You seem to quite like it when I touch you here.")_ Traditional rules of the covenant do not apply to humans turned demon.

Oh yes, Sebastian and his little lord are still bound to be servant-and-master for all eternity (a fact that vexes Sebastian to no end), but the elder demon is no longer compelled to follow Ciel's each and every wish, instead possessing an odd trait known as 'free will'.

Taking full advantage of this loophole, Sebastian simply shrugs in response.

Nearly shaking with anger and not wanting to be defied even further, Ciel changes the subject. His tone is decidedly unaffected. If the butler doesn't care, he doesn't either. "I want you to find out who those two men are. Meet me back here in fifteen minutes. That's an order."

"We'll be late for teatime, my lord-"

 _"An order_ , Sebastian."

Deciding that games of this type are far more interesting with his meeting of Ciel's every demand, Sebastian nods and dips into a shallow bow. "Yes, my lord."

In the blink of an eye, the butler disappears. Another thing that Ciel finds himself envying- Sebastian's speed and strength did not transfer over to him, only the more useless things like requiring souls for sustenance and advanced senses. He is still just a fragile little plaything, with a need for protection and a penchant for being broken.

After a few moments of staring at the spot where Sebastian just stood, Ciel deeply sighs, a sudden sense of boredom striking him. With a small huff, he looks about at his surroundings as if something entertaining will suddenly appear.

Slightly disappointed, he stiffly strides down the outside of the mall to a relatively shady spot along the back side. With an irritated cluck of his tongue, he crosses his arms and leans against the rough concrete building. After shifting his shoulders in a futile attempt to get into a more comfortable position, he simply gives up and closes his eyes, allowing his head to gently thump backwards.

Just as he is on the brink of dozing off- something he often finds himself indulging in- the quiet sound of feet walking catch his attention, undetectable to anyone without demon hearing. Peeking open an eye, he coolly maintains his composure. After just over a century of practice, he perfected his acting skills; ergo not moving an inch from his position as the two men from earlier approach.

Dean and Sam, if Ciel recalls correctly, anxiously glance around themselves and keep their hands buried in their pockets. The demon knows that look and is immediately set on edge, hair prickling along the back of his neck. If they try anything he'll run as fast as his legs can carry him- if he called for Sebastian, all the bastard would do was laugh at him.

"Did you perhaps come to harass a child again?" Ciel taunts, looking up at them through half-closed eyes as they stop a foot away from him.

"Actually, he came to formally apologize," Sam replies, gesturing to Dean.

"Yeah, sorry about that run-in earlier," Reassures the other man, rocking back on his heels. "No hard feelings?"

Ciel sneers at the proffered hand. It's _filthy_ , and smells of blood and sweat and other things that hurt his sensitive nose. He gives the shorter man one last judgmental look, trying desperately to convey how much he doesn't want to touch him, before shaking his hand.

"I suppose-"

Before Ciel can even get the chance to run, Dean pulls him forward. A strong arm wraps around his middle while another yanks around his neck, cutting his scream and air circulation off.

.

Sebastian snaps open his pocket watch for the second time in the last five minutes, one of the few things that annoy him to no end- being off schedule. With a grunt of disapproval, he closes the watch and returns it to the front pocket of his pants.

If his master hasn't arrived at the designated spot yet, then he certainly won't arrive later, and Sebastian has his suspicions that Ciel has gotten caught up in something troublesome. Again.

Lord, it was deja-vu from Ciel's human life- the brat gets kidnapped, Sebastian saves him, Ciel silently blames him for being so slow.

Turning his back to the glaring sun, Sebastian breaks into an inhumanly fast sprint, a blur to anyone who happens to catch a glimpse of him. The bordering state of South Dakota is his destination.

If his hunch is correct (which he, of course, knows it to be), he'll have to pay a visit to a certain friend of a certain pair of young brothers.

Hell hath no fury like a butler without his master.

.

The world is warm and hazy when Ciel regains consciousness. Through drooping eyes and sticky lashes, he can make out sunlight illuminating a collage of earthy colors. As his vision and mind clears he realizes that the colors compose the rotting walls of an empty, spacious room. The brown timber that make up the floor and walls is only disrupted by the orange and green mold speckling the room, and a vibrant red pentagram crudely drawn on the floor beneath him.

He attempts to move forward- to leave this strange place- but finds he's stuck. More specifically, tied up. A pair of handcuffs hangs loosely around his right wrist and connects him to the arm of the wooden chair he is confined in. Thick, itchy bundles of burlap rope strap his other arm and both of his ankles to the chair.

A grunt of effort escapes Ciel as he once again attempts to remove himself from his bonds.

"Bloody humans," he mutters angrily to himself. He begins to call out, leaning his head lazily against the back of the chair. "Haven't you class enough to come and speak with me? Perhaps inform me of why exactly I'm tied to a ruddy _chair?"_

His yelling is cut off when the only door in the room slams open. Just as he had suspected, the two men from earlier lumber in, a new man in a trench coat trailing after them like a lost puppy.

The one named Dean, if Ciel remembers correctly, is wearing an annoyed scowl.

"Yeesh, don't get your panties in a knot, Sleeping Beauty," he remarks as he begins to rummage for something in his pockets.

Sleeping Beauty? That's a Grimm fairy tale, is it not? Vaguely he remembers Elizabeth liking those. His mother reading them to him before bed…

That's a dangerous train of thought that Ciel decides he'd rather not pursue.

"I'm afraid I can't be Sleeping Beauty," he replies somewhat distantly. "This is far from a castle."

"Sorry to disappoint," Dean scoffs, finding whatever he was looking for in his pockets and pulling it out. It's a glass flask with a cork stopper, filled to the brim with what Ciel can only assume was some kind of vodka or rum (he can't imagine that anyone would have a flask and not fill it with alcohol- although he also isn't sure what use liquor would be in this situation).

He turns back to the other two men, "Are ya'll ready for this?"

Sam lets out a quiet snicker as if he just been told a particularly amusing joke and nods, biting his lip in a way that Ciel struggles to not find attractive (he always has been one to appreciate the beauty of the male form). The other dark haired man nods as well, grim look never wavering.

"Wait just a minute," Ciel snarls, not revealing any of the panic that creeps in the back of his mind. "Who are you and what do you want with me?" All four of the males freeze at this- one out of anticipation and three out of confusion.

"...You don't know who we are?" Sam questions as he waves the small, worn book he had pulled from his coat in his right hand. "You don't know _us?"_

The demon rolls his eye and matches their incredulous looks. "Do you think I would I be asking you if I knew? Or perhaps living in a dump like this has killed your brain cells."

Sam gestures to himself, Dean, and the unnamed man. "Aren't we on you guys' Most Wanted list?"

"'You guys'?' Who are you associating me with, exactly?" Certainly not the Phantomhives, as no one knows who they were in this century.

"You guys- demons." Sam answers, only to be met with a blank look from Ciel.

Dean sputters out a short laugh of disbelief. "You really aren't in Hell's little loop are you, kid?"

Ciel rolls his eyes with a sigh, quickly growing bored again. "Look, as much fun as it is to play twenty questions with you _baboons_ , I would rather learn what you want from me so I can get out of this manky place."

"Well... we were going to nab some information from you about this whole Apocalypse crap..."

"Apocalypse?"

"...But you obviously don't know squat. So, exorcising you it is."

"Wait-"

Before Ciel can get out another word, Dean flicks his wrist and sends a splash of the liquid from the flask and onto his face. The demon cringes at the mild burning sensation. It feels like the time when Agni accidentally dropped his mixture of spices on him. Sam and the unnamed man both begin reciting something in Latin.

Though Ciel knows the language he can't decipher what they're saying; as soon as the words hit his ears his mind goes scrambling. The world becomes a concoction of swirling colors and white noise, the sensation of a fist making contact pounds his head and his gut.

Only one thought stands out in his brain with anything resembling clarity:

 _Definitely not vodka._

 _._

Dean had taken it upon himself to put a stop to his brother's pacing.

"Hey, Sammy!" He calls to his brother across the room, who is currently taking long strides back and forth by the only window. "Getting worked up like that ain't gonna help, so why don't you just come back over here."

Sam stops mid-step to look at his brother dubiously, but after a beat he complies and returns to where Dean and Castiel are, easily side-stepping the source of his anxiety.

"What should we do?" the youngest Winchester questions, gesturing to the unconscious child-demon in the center of the room. "Nothing's working on him- salt, reciting, holy water. We can't afford to have a new kind of demon, one that'll possibly be used against us. Not this close to our deadline; you _know_ that."

The three men each take a moment to stare at the demon, their thoughts a whirlwind of contemplation.

"Perhaps we need another opinion," Cas suggests, breaking the pregnant silence that hangs between them.

Dean nods in agreement and pulls out his cellphone. "I'll give Bobby a call, he'll be our best bet." As if on cue, his phone rings, blasting _Enter Sandman._ "Hello? Bobby? We were just talking about you. Listen-" He's cut off mid-sentence, frozen in horror.

Castiel and Sam immediately rush to his side. "Dean, what's wrong?"

.

"My apologies, but I had to borrow your companion's cellular device for a moment," Sebastian speaks calmly into the phone, interrupting Dean. He takes a moment to glance down at the man whose head he holds a gun to. "I do believe you have something of mine."

Dean snarls his next words. "I swear to God, if you lay one finger on him-"

"Then I believe we are at a stalemate- an agreement if if you will. I assure you no harm will come to my hostage if no harm comes to yours."

"I'm assuming you want your little toy?"

"Quite so. Would you be so kind as to put my young master on the phone?"

"And why should I do that?"

"I assure you that have much more to lose than I do, so I suggest you do as I say."

There is a short pause, as if the hunter is mentally analyzing Sebastian's threat. "...Fine."

Sebastian waits patiently as scuffing noises and muffled voices come from the phone, making it obvious that the device is being passed around none too gently. When the noise stops, a familiar, albeit weak voice speaks.

"S-Sebast...ian?" The voice is thick and slurred, but undoubtedly his lord's. He ignores the little tremor of relief that wracks his body, and firmly resists the urge to cradle the phone closer.

"Good afternoon, Young Master. Do be patient and hang on a little longer. Now, I assume that you 'hunters' have put it on speaker, so listen up. Bring my lord to Bobby Singer's home and I shall leave this drunk unharmed."

As he speaks, he nudges the man in question distastefully with his foot, like one might prod at a particularly interesting specie of roadkill. Humans certainly are disgusting creatures.

He hangs up and begins to look around.

There are _books,_ covering every surface, and in a whole range of languages and topics. It's really quite impressive, like the old man's trying to build himself a library about hunting monsters.

 _Monster._

The young lord is still quite touchy about that word, insisting that no, he and his butler are still capable of emotion and of empathy, and that most monsters, true monsters, tend to be human, thank you very much.

Sometimes Sebastian suspects that Ciel is still agonized over eating his first soul. It had been a relatively quiet affair, the desperate human in question requiring something Ciel gave to it within the hour, and then the contract was fulfilled. He'll never forget Ciel's eyes, wide and haunted, struggling with himself- torn between ecstasy and self-deprecation.

Not all his nightmares, the older demon is certain, are about the fire, not when the event happened over a century ago.

It isn't a butler's place to mention such things, though, so Sebastian merely cracks open a book, eyes occasionally flicking to his captive to make sure he isn't attempting escape, and reads.


	3. We've Been Expecting You

**Author's Note: For you yaoi haters, this chapter is like the least gay out of all of them. You're welcome. Okay so it's a little gay. But not like, super gay. Not** _ **nauseatingly**_ **gay (if there is such a thing *wink wink*).**

 **Chapter Three: We've Been Expecting You, Mister Winchester**

* * *

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

"Good afternoon, Young Master. Do be patient and hang on a little longer. Now, I assume that you 'hunters' have put the phone on speaker, so listen up. Bring my lord to Bobby Singer's home and I will leave this drunk unharmed."

With that last ultimatum, the line goes dead.

If Ciel wasn't already free from his lethargic state, he certainly is now.

"Goddamn it!" Dean roars, fingers whitening as they clench around the cell phone. "That-"

"Calm down, Dean," Sam barks sternly, hands running nervously through his hair.

"Calm down?! Sam, that son of a bitch got Bobby! How can I calm down?!"

"Hey, it's not like something like this hasn't happened before-"

"Not with an immune demon," Dean shoots back, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.

"Look, all we have to do is return the kid and everything will be safe-"

Sam is cut off by an obnoxiously loud groan. Looking towards the worse, the brothers and angel find it is Ciel making the loud noise, head rolled back in annoyance.

"Can we get this over with?" he sighs as his head returns upright. "I haven't the time to be lounging about!" His lip curls in disgust. "This place is… _repulsive."_

"Shut your trap, you little brat," Dean snaps, jabbing a finger towards him. "We call the shots here, not you-"

"You couldn't be farther from the truth," Ciel retorts, wanting to tear his hair out in irritation. He sighs heavily, as if it's a tremendous bother to even attempt communication with such inferior creatures. "You have far more to lose than I do."

"Dude, I'm not the one tied to a chair."

"Allow me to enlighten you, hm? Your companion is in the hands of an ancient demon. You've proven for yourself that you cannot kill me, in fact, with six words I could have you dead **(1)**. You're on a tight schedule. _Must_ I go on?"

Dean's jaw twitches with resentment. He can't deny anything the demon had just stated, no matter how much he wants to.

Sensing his brother's short temper on the verge of snapping, Sam places a comforting hand on Dean's chest. He breaks the stare-off between Dean and Ciel by stepping between the two.

"Hey, cool it, Dean. He's just trying to get into your head."

With one last snarl, Dean stalks away, mumbling, "Damn demons," under his breath. He leaves the room, slamming the door shut.

.

Once alone, Dean swears loudly, punching the wall. Trying to think quickly, he takes his cell phone from his pocket **(2)** and taps a number angrily into the keypad.

He waits impatiently for several moments, tapping his foot and listening to the phone ring.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, Ellen. It's Dean. We kinda got a situation…"

.

Both Sam and Cas shoot worried glances at where Dean had just left. They both know his loyalty towards his family and empathy towards children is a stressful mix for him. And that's even without factoring in the pressing matter of the Apocalypse.

Sam sighs, suddenly feeling exhausted. But he knows that the situation requires their utmost attention, especially in the short time they're limited to. So, he shakes himself from his depressing thoughts and turns to Cas to form a plan of action.

"Oi!" A sharp voice cuts in before the two men can exchange even a word. "I insist that we leave as soon as possible," Sam can hear the smirk in the brat's voice. "Sebastian is not a patient man."

"He's not a man at all," Sam mutters to himself.

As reiterated by Ciel's command, Castiel immediately offers an idea. "I can go ahead to Bobby's home and ensure sure that he is in good condition."

Sam shakes his head emphatically, waving off the suggestion. "Sorry, Cas, but we can't do that. If one of us shows up without the kid, then who knows how that demon will react."

Much to Sam's annoyance, Ciel butts into the conversation. Again. "Though that statement may be true, I would rather you not call us 'demons' and me 'kid.' We do have names and I would rather you not lump me into a group that I am obviously not a part of."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "Okay then...?" He decides to follow the universal rule of 'don't piss off the crazy immortal demon' and simply nods.

Leaning forward in his seat, Ciel stares at Sam, as if it will make him understand better. He speaks his next words slowly and articulates clearly, as if Sam has trouble hearing.

"Are you deaf? My name is Earl- Excuse me, Ciel Phantomhive. That 'demon' you referred to earlier is Sebastian Michaelis."

"...Well, now that we're all introduced... Let's go." Shaking himself from his stupor, the youngest Winchester nods at the angel. "Cas, if you would."

"Of course," Castiel answers grimly, already starting towards the captive demon.

Ciel begins to struggle against his bonds, tugging at the restraints with renewed vigor movements. "I know you know that anything you do me is useless. So I would rather you refrain from _touching me!"_

The young demon squirms away from the forefinger Castiel moves to place on his forehead. His resistance turns out to be futile and the instant the angel touches him, the world goes black.

"Get Dean," he hears right before it all drifts into nothingness.

.

When Ciel comes around everything is dark, a red haze from an unknown source being his only light. He can't see a thing, really, only able to feel that he's in a small, confined space. He also observes that he's jolting around, bouncing even higher from his lying position every so often. The latest movement manages to knock his head against the wall above him. The itchy material surrounding the walls does little to buffer the blow and he is left with a throbbing headache. But it's as if a switched had been flipped, because he suddenly realizes that he's in a trunk of a car.

The red haze is sunshine shining through the tail lights. The jostling is the vehicle speeding across a dirt road, unfortunately littered with potholes if his bouncing and pounding head is anything to go by. The scratchy fabric lining the walls is carpet lining the inside of the trunk.

Deducing the rest with ease, Ciel pounds on the trunk's walls with tightly balled fists.

"Let me out! I refuse to be transported in the trunk of a car! Again! It's hot and small and the carpet is burning my skin- _ow!"_ A sudden jolt causes Ciel to bounce around again, but he doesn't falter his complaints. _"And for the love of the Queen, slow down!"_

Unfortunately, his poundings and yelling are soon drowned out by a blast of music suddenly flaring up.

"Will you turn off that beastly music?! Led Zeppelin needs to belt up!"

.

They had planned on using the element of surprise to rescue Bobby. Key word: _planned_.

Apparently Dean saw that as more of a suggestion rather than instruction, because as they approached Bobby's house, he broke down the front door with a solid kick of his heel. How he managed to stay balanced with a bound and gagged child-demon being dragged behind him is a mystery to Sam.

Nonetheless, the youngest Winchester follows his brother's lead. Storming into Bobby's cluttered home right behind Dean and Cas, he goes for the intimidation factor.

"We're here, ya bastard!" Dean hollers, his voice booming through the house as they carefully pick their way through the home, avoiding the towering piles of books and other trinkets.

When they're all crowded into the messy living room, the group of three men is caught off guard. The demon, Sebastian, is threateningly hovering over Bobby, a hand on the back of his wheelchair and a dagger in the other; it's rather redundant considering Bobby is gagged and bound in a similar fashion Ciel is.

That isn't what threw them off; rather, they had been expecting some muscular, middle-aged man, the appearance that most demons have. But instead they're met with completely the opposite. The demon, Sebastian, is young, in his mid-twenties, if Dean had to take a guess. He is also thin, unhealthily so, judging from the rather narrow waist to the shadows in his cheeks. Yet he somehow still has muscles, only hinted by his attire.

A cross necklace hangs over his chest, swaying with the demon's breathing. It confuses the hunters more than anything- after all, such a thing should hurt to wear- but it seems to not even begin to affect the man.

His cheekbones are high and prominent, his jaw strong, and Sam thinks he actually looks a bit like Ciel, if Ciel were older and had darker hair. Maybe their vessels are father and son? _That_ would be fucked up.

Sharp red eyes seem to pierce into their souls, as if they're merely pigs being inspected before slaughter. It hits the hunters then that this is the man who was with Ciel at the mall, and probably the one who caused the EMF to react so strongly.

An obnoxious groan cuts the silence.

Of course it's Ciel, trying to move against the duct tape covering his mouth and locking his wrists behind his back. The young demon raises his eyebrows and shrugs his shoulders as if to remind them of the urgency of the situation. Snapping back to keep a watchful eye on the opposing demon and hostage, the three resume their defensive stances.

"I trust my master was not hurt," Sebastian intones, tapping the tip of his dagger on the bill of Bobby's cap threateningly.

"He's in one piece as we agreed," Sam answers quickly before his brother can spit out some sarcastic retort.

"Well, he is certainly missing more than a few pieces," the butler says with a smirk, chuckling as the pair of demons share a beat of creepily fond eye contact. "But, those were not inflicted by you, so I will agree that your work was sufficient."

"Look, we brought your... young master. Now keep your end of the bargain and let Bobby go."

"Very well then," he sighs, making a show of tossing the dagger onto the cluttered desk behind him before clapping his hands together. "I will take Ciel and we will be on our way."

Dean shakes his head firmly and pushes Ciel behind him, anger and suspicion apparent in his voice. _"Oh no_ , we're not falling for any of your demon trick crap. _You're_ coming over here to get your little boy toy."

Sebastian sighs in disgust and exasperation, and, as if having had an epiphany, his expression blanks out entirely, and he says, no, _orders_ :

"Take the duct tape off of his mouth, please."

Sam sneers. "No way!"

"The duct tape. Demons have more weapons than merely knives, child, and I'm certainly not afraid to use them."

The tape is unceremoniously ripped from Ciel's face.

"My lord," Sebastian begins, as if reading from a script. **(3)** "A guest has come to call. Shall I set tea in the drawing room?"

"Of course, Sebastian," Ciel says in the same tone. "Treat them to the Phantomhive hospitality."

This seems to satisfy the butler, because while Sam and Dean are busy exchanging glances of _'what-the-fuck'_ , he cuts Bobby's bonds away, still keeping an eye on the man, who doesn't dare move.

"Now that I've been assured that my young master is in fact my young master, I should like him back, please."

A foot away, he holds out a hand.

It happens fast, over as soon as it begins.

Sam lunges forward as Dean and Cas create a blockade with their bodies, surrounding Sebastian and shielding Ciel. It's all the time Sam needs to come from behind and plunge Ruby's knife into the demon's chest, the blade breaking apart ribs and sliding into a lung. Red electricity crackles through Sebastian's body like lightning, energy igniting his veins.

Even as he drops to his knees, the butler releases one last strangled breath and shoots a final apologetic look at his young master.

.

 **(1) I kind of just assumed that the words were: "This is an order, kill them." Or something to that effect. Y'know, just six words that could have the hunters dead. Use your imagination.**

 **(2) It's super funny to me that they have flip phones. I understand why, obviously (i.e. early 2000s, they need burner phones, etc.) But still. HIlarious.**

 **(3) It's a headcanon of mine that Ciel and Sebastian have like a password for when Ciel gets kidnapped and they're making sure that they're not imposters. I guess that they wouldn't need to use it anymore since they're both demons, but still. The thought of them having code phrases makes me happy.**


	4. Plastic

**Author's Note: It's short, I'm sorry, yadda yadda yadda, we all know I suck.**

 **Chapter Four: Plastic**

* * *

.

.

.

The trio of attackers simultaneously sigh a breath of relief. Their bodies relax from their armed positions as adrenaline drains from their tense muscles and racing hearts.

Carefully nudging Sebastian's limp body with his foot, Sam inspects the gaping wound in his chest for any signs of regeneration in case the demon has the same powers Ciel showed.

Nothing.

Not a twitch. Not a quiver. Just a slow, steady stream of blood.

Silently pleased with the results, Sam rises from his crouch and nods at Dean and Cas, wincing at Dean's whoop of victory and complete obliviousness to the lone child frozen behind the two. The flurry of emotions- pain, anger, bewilderment- that flash across Ciel's face send a pang of guilt through Sam. That youthful visage makes it easy to forget and overlook the sly, vicious _demon_ that lurks beneath.

Sam's stupor is broken when Dean shoves past him to Bobby's side.

Despite Bobby's annoyed protests, Dean examines the thin, irritated gash trailing down the gruff man's jaw.

"Well, it's not bleeding too bad so it can't be too deep of a cut. But we should still clean it up," Dean mutters.

"What am I am? A toddler?" Bobby spits, pushing Dean away. "I've survived worse."

"Sure, but you sure as hell ain't as young as you used to be."

"I'm not _that_ old!"

"You're getting there, old man," Dean teases with a crooked grin.

"Tch."

All light-heartedness in the room is cut in two a sharp voice.

"Get up, Sebastian." A forgotten Ciel growls, lip curled in annoyance. He takes a step forward, but is immediately held back by Cas wrapping his arms around his torso and neck. "That's enough nonsense. I'm getting tired of this game... Besides I can't imagine that old floor is any good for sleep. You'll fuck up your back or something."

All eyes instantly hone in on the body of the older demon still motionless on the floor.

One beat. Two.

"Sebastian, that was an _order_ ," Ciel snarls, like his orders have any weight to a dead demon. "You of all people should know that I've a schedule to stick to. My associates will be most displeased if I'm not present for our meetings. I'm getting _bored."_

A convulsion runs through Sebastian's body, quick but violent as if struck by a bolt of electricity. The hunters instinctively reach for their weapons and Cas tightens his grip around Ciel.

Rising from the ground in a shaky, inhuman back arch, Sebastian faintly replies to his master's orders in a strained, disembodied voice. "...My sincerest apologies, my lord."

Ciel scoffs. "As if you could be sincere about a single damn thing. Don't feed me false apologies. Just do as I say."

Sebastian's body snaps forward and hunches over as he clutches the oozing wound in his chest. "...As you wish, young master."

A series of pops and cracks run through his body upon rising to his full height, but he is unfazed by this and continues speaking in a grounded tone, all hints of his previously disembodied voice gone.

"Honestly, I must say I'm quite offended. To think a simple knife could kill me. And young master," He turns to Ciel, wearing a plastic smile. "You know I do not lie."

A habitual mumble of Latin prayer from Cas causes Sebastian to stop inspecting his bloodied shirt and snap his head in the angel's direction.

"My my," he muses with a curious tilt of his head. "I haven't seen your kind in years."

"Damn, what hole have you been living to not have seen an angel for that long?" Dean criticizes, keeping his eyes and shotgun trained on the demon.

From within Cas's grasp, Ciel's eyes grow wide in realization, then narrow in disgust. He squirms in his bonds.

"You're-" A tightening grip around his throat ceases his movement. Sebastian turns to fully face the angel and his captive at this threatening motion.

"Well, that's beside the point, isn't it?" Sebastian says with a sickly sweet grin, sharp canines flashing. "Now then," He claps his hands together. "If you would be so kind as to let my master go, I believe that we can continue on our way."

Everyone in the room tenses in apprehension, trying to calculate each opponent's movements.

Eyes locked, silent plans exchanged. In the blink of an eye, the room erupts into action.

Cas shoves Ciel across the room, stumbling into Bobby, who pushes him again and sends him tumbling into the adjoining room. Sebastian lunges for Ciel as he teeters between captors, but is obstructed by Sam throwing a right hook aimed at his head followed by a swipe of his bloody knife, both avoided. Castiel takes this moment to join Sam in sending a series of punches and kicks at the older demon while Dean circles the group with his shotgun in search for an opening.

After what is merely seconds but feels like an hour, blows are exchanged and the fight is over.

Sebastian snatches Sam's wrist mid-swing, painfully twisting his arm around and kicking him into Cas. With the two thrown onto the floor, he steals the moment to hurl one of the many tomes littering the room at Dean's head. He then uses Dean's dazed state to his advantage and kicks the sawed off shotgun out of the hunters hand in a wide arch and into a pile of haphazardly stacked books.

He's back at Ciel's side before his adversaries realize he's gone.

...Just as the hunters had planned.

.


	5. Sell Your Soul

**Author's Note: This one is one of my favorites so far (besides Chapter Eight which I'm currently in the process of writing/editing). I mean, it's probs not as good as the original… What can I say, I'm no Resistant Raisin.**

 **Chapter Five: Sell Your Soul**

* * *

.

.

.

Ciel remains silent as Sebastian cuts his bonds away with a wave of his finger.

"It's been a pleasure," Ciel remarks dryly, wiping his hands off on his already badly dirtied shirt. "But really, my butler and I must get a move on."

Dean laughs as blood pours from his nose. "You're not going anywhere, squirt." He points to the ceiling with a gloating smirk.

The ex-Earl of Phantomhive looks up to see a red pentagram painted on the ceiling, a near-exact copy of the mark of the covenant he bears on his eye.

He raises an eyebrow. "Good for you, you can draw. Now if you'll excuse us..." He struts towards the door but is stopped by a bony hand.

"My lord," Sebastian murmurs, voice low enough that no one but his master hears, pulling the boy closer to him (so close, in fact, that it makes Ciel's heart thud against his chest and his cheeks flush lightly pink). "It seems that the symbol above us is a trap meant to hold demons. Though I have already broken the seal, it would be less troublesome to make our escape later. More hunters will be arriving momentarily."

The younger demon sighs heavily and speaks to the rugged men. "Honestly? Can't we simply leave peacefully?"

Before they can answer two women crash through the door, aiming shotguns.

"Jesus Christ, woman!" Bobby complains, throwing his hands in the air. "This place is already broken down enough!"

The older, red headed woman ignore Bobby and eye the pair of demons suspiciously. "That them?"

Dean nods, "Yeah, Ellen, they're the demons I told you about."

Ciel scowls. "Honestly, demon is such a distasteful word."

The younger blonde woman rises an eyebrow before turning back to the other hunters. "So, why haven't you exorcised these guys yet?"

"We tried, Jo," Sam explains. "But, nothing works. We even stabbed, er ...Sebastian with the demon knife."

This time Castiel, the angel, speaks up from deep thought. "I do have one idea that might work."

The blonde, Jo, slaps her hand to her face. "Really? You couldn't have had your 'aha' moment before you called?"

"Correction, we need you to help us fight the demons," Cas corrects.

"Whatever, Cas. What's your idea?"

"I can get Meatus Water, then we should be able to kill them with their fears. But first, I must touch their foreheads and see their memories before the water is of any use to us."

"What in hell is _Meatus Water?"_ Dean interjects angrily, because he's always angry when he doesn't understand things.

"Derived from the Latin word _metum_ , or fear. Its exact properties are..." the angel looks thoughtful. "...Indescribable, in the human tongue."

Dean still isn't satisfied. "So what's the closest word to the effect, then?"

Castiel sends a sad little smile in the direction of the eldest Winchester brother. "Terror. So afraid of your own mind that your body shuts down completely. Crudely put, you literally scare yourself to death."

"Quite harsh," the little lord interrupts. "If I may add my own proposition, simply release us and I won't have Sebastian kill you when we finally do leave."

"Shut your damn mouth!" Dean snaps. "Like we'd trust you wannabe bikers. Cas! Do your mojo now so we can get this over with."

Castiel nods and watches on with curiosity.

Sebastian leans down and whispers, breath hot against Ciel's ear, "If you wish it, young master, we may take our leave now. It would only take a moment for us to slip away unharmed."

Ciel ponders this for a moment. "No, why not stay here for a while longer? I am quite intrigued by this Meatus Water. If I am correct, we can only be killed by a demon sword, so I see no threat."

"You are risking living through your human life again?" he asks skeptically. He frowns. "And I must say that I cannot condone veering this far off schedule." _Or you destroying yourself for a meal.  
_  
"If I hear another word about the damned schedule… Do I need repeat myself, Sebastian?"

"It is as you wish, my lord."

Ciel steps toward the edge of the alleged demon trap and stares down at the angel. "So, Castiel, was it? If you are going to look into my past, then we need to make a trade."

"We do not bargain with demons." he replies sternly.

"Then I'm afraid I can't give you any memories. As soon as one of you step into this demon trap Sebastian will kill everyone here. But, if you allow us to look into the past of two of your hunter friends, then we will get along smoothly."

Sam steps forward. "Why are you risking getting killed for some memories?"

The earl rolls his eyes. "You must be more ignorant than I thought... We feed off of the consumption of human souls. But fear and pain do work as well, though they're sadly not as satisfying." The child gives a nasty grin. "Fortunately, I'm willing to settle for lower quality, at this point." It has, after all, been nigh on fifty years since his last meal, but Ciel likes to hold his cards close to his chest, and not reveal anything unless absolutely necessary.

"So you want to _eat?"_ Dean asks, outraged.

"Well, I do. I can't say the same for my butler though."

"What?"

The boy's patience is dwindling rapidly. "Do we have a deal or not?"

The hunters exchange hushed words among themselves.

 _Can we trust them?  
What choice do we have?  
I'll go.  
No! I'll go.  
Shut up! Me and Sammy can do this._

"Alright!" Dean announces. "We'll take your offer. But if you try to pull anything, we'll drown you in holy water."

Ciel nods along to the hunter's words, not paying much attention as the threat of holy water is a small one. "Very well. Let's get this over with, shall we? I've places to go and things to do."

Ellen and her daughter shuffle awkwardly.

"Dean," Jo pipes up eventually.

"Yeah?" He's irritated at being interrupted, but Ellen's glare shuts him up.

"I… I don't think we should stay here. We have a hunt up in Montana- we were on our way there when you called."

"What, you can't spare a few hours for family?" Dean's really getting worked up, now, hands twitching with the instinctual need for a weapon.

"You know it's not like that, Dean! People are _dying_."

"People could die _here_ , Jo, if you leave."

"On the contrary," a smooth voice interjects. Damn fucking demons, butting in where they don't belong. "We won't kill anyone whose soul hasn't been sold, so long as the deal we arranged remains in place." Sebastian smiles, an expression that doesn't quite fit his face. Ciel nods along to what his servant is saying.

"A Phantomhive is nothing if not a man of his word."

Demons are the epitome of untrustworthy, Dean knows, but right now his options are limited.

"Fine!" Dean snaps. "Fine, fine. Do what you need to do. Just," he runs a hand through his closely-cropped hair. "Be safe, okay?"

Jo beams. They leave the three hunters and the angel with a spare shotgun 'just in case'.

"Aw," Ciel drawls as they speed away. "It almost warms the heart."

"Shut the fuck up, _Artemis Fowl_ _ **(1)**_ , and let's get on with this already."

.

 **Artemis Fowl is a book series about a 12-year-old millionaire genius who runs around with fantasy creatures, I'm pretty sure (correct me if I'm wrong). It felt like a Dean reference.**


	6. In Which Dean Is Eaten Kind Of

**Author's Note: Wazzup bitches? Here's an edited chapter for you, kiddies. Take it, take it and like it!**

 **Unfortunately, I had to write both Jo's and Ellen's characters out of the story last chapter because I'm not even close to familiar with their characters and personalities, and, knowing me, if I'd kept them there, I would have screwed them up and made people mad.**

 **Please don't hurt me.**

 **Chapter Six: In Which Dean Is Eaten. Kind Of.**

* * *

.

.

.

Ciel stands at the edge of the demon trap bracing himself. He waves a hand impatiently. "If you would hurry up a bit."

"You're not the one being eaten, princess." Dean snaps as he walks towards the boy-demon. He shoots a skeptical glance in Sam's direction. His brother gives him a small nod, which seems to pacify the elder. "So how does this work? What do I need to do?"

"Lay back, and look into my eyes. Even you should be able to manage that, brain-dead though you are."

"Damn demons..." he mutters, leaning back in the chair.

In a swift, practiced motion, Ciel pulls the string of his eyepatch loose and places it into Sebastian's open hand. He holds his eye shut a moment, out of pure habit, before opening it wide, staring directly into Dean's eyes.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!" the hunter shouts, sitting up abruptly and shifting backwards.

Castiel is quick to respond. "What are you talking about?"

Ciel claps a hand over his exposed eye.

"I knew this was a mistake," he mutters through gritted teeth. "Damn humans, asking questions about things they have _no right to know-_ "

"My lord," Sebastian chuckles. "You were the one who agreed to such a deal in the first place. If you couldn't handle a few stares, what kind of Phantomhive would you be?"

The boy glares at his butler before giving a tight, jerky nod. His weight shifts, posture changing into something prideful and adult. His hand comes away from his eye and the contract seal is revealed to the room.

The sheer amount of attention is uncomfortable, which is strange because he typically revels in the envious stares of commoners, likes to show off his wealth and power to those lesser than him.

This feels different somehow, feels too much like pity and far too much like revulsion.

"You made a deal with a demon? When? How?" Sam breathes, more in awe of the new knowledge than the contract itself.

The little tyrant smirks, confidence returning in spades at his dumbfounded expression. He does so love shocking people.

"Well, you'll just have to wait a bit won't you?" He replies, laughing bitterly. "Let's move this along, now, shall we?" The demon asks, fingers tapping out an impatient rhythm on his hip.

Dean takes the hint to lay back down, a bit dubious, and stares into the Phantomhive's mismatched eyes, one swirling magenta and the other glowing purple.

The room begins to flicker.

.

Sam inhales sharply. The room is changing. Bobby's old wood floors shift into black and white tiles.

The walls melt into plain white walls. The furniture fades into tables stocked with medical equipment.

Sam looks around, trying to read the others' expressions. Everyone is baffled by the room's transformation. Well, he can't really tell what the Sebastian guy is thinking, but he assumes so, anyway.

Somehow, they had entered in Dean's memories.

.

Dean shivers slightly as the smaller demon's gaze bears into his skull. He can seemingly feel every broken bone snap again, every single scar reopen.

But the worst, his every awful memory is instantly recalled, brought to the immediate forefront.

For a terrible moment, he thinks he's going to die.

 _His only remaining parent dying, whispering those devastating words._

 _His father shoving his little brother into his arms and ordering him to take the baby and run._

 _Sam running away when they were still kids when it was Dean's job to watch over and protect him._

 _Sam leaving to go off to college. To lead a normal life._

 _Cas coming back out of the blue when he was supposed to be dead._

The pain sears into his brain and he screams in pure agony, like the death scream of a wounded animal.

Ciel thinks he's never tasted anything so delicious. (Besides the one soul he'd consumed, of course, but meals are so much more enjoyable when they don't leave you hating yourself.)

.

"Stop!" Sam barks. "He's had enough."

Ciel supposes the trigger happy hunter would be useless should he go completely crazy.

He finally breaks eye contact with the hunter and stretches out on the floor as the room begins to return into its original form.

"Well, that was quite satisfying..." Ciel says, almost drowsily.

The pair of hunters and the angel fret over Dean as he shakily rises back to a sitting position.

"Jesus Christ," Dean quakes, running a hand through sweat drenched hair. "If this is just memories, then I sure as hell wouldn't want to have my soul fed of off."

"Bravo, you survived," Ciel drawls. "Most go insane."

The group exchanges disbelieving looks, while Ciel and Sebastian share a brief glance of satisfaction, the latter beaming like a proud parent.

"Now, who's up next?"

"Hell no!" Dean shouts as he scrambled up, swaying a little. "No way I'll let anyone else go through that!"

The earl glances up at the group. "Going against our deal are we?" They all move to a defensive stance, to which Ciel merely chuckles. "Don't worry, I'm feeling generous now that I've been fed."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "You're just letting it go?"

"That's what I said, was it not?"

"...All because you're in a good mood now?"

"Your pain..." Ciel looks rapturous. "Was _intoxicating."_

Dean shivers. "Gross, dude. Never talk about it again."

The angel butts in. "Now it's time to keep your end of the bargain."

Ciel sighs heavily. "Yes, I suppose it is."

"Finally," Bobby breathes, evidently relieved. "I'm tired of you two and it's only been a little over an hour."

Ciel sits up and steels himself for what's to come. Castiel brings two fingers to his forehead and then he swears he can see hell again.

.

The butler pulls his young master's head into his lap as he falls backward. Sweat is already running down his pale face, dripping down the flawless skin in rivulets.

Sebastian smiles inwardly as the room morphs into a dark sacrificial altar.

 _How amusing this will be._


	7. It Gets Hella Gay

**Author's Note: *crawls out of trash can like the garbage she is* Hey guys! Did you miss me?**

 **Like it said in the summary, there are yaoi UNDERTONES, nothing explicit. It's sort of like the general feeling of Black Butler, particularly the corset scene. I'm sorry, I just have a really hard time writing stuff that's not slash.**

 **Okay, that's a lie- I'm not actually sorry.**

 **EVERYTHING UP TO THIS POINT HAS BEEN EDITED IN SUCH EXTREME WAYS THAT IT MIGHT BE BEST TO REREAD ALL THE PAST CHAPTERS PLEASE THANK YOU.**

 **Chapter Seven: It Gets Hella Gay (But No Homo Tho) P.S. Also Angst**

* * *

.

.

.

Ciel Phantomhive is valuable in every way imaginable.

Young.

Wealthy.

Noble.

 _Beautiful_ , as he is reminded of constantly by the men, whose hands like to wander and find and _touch._

He is the perfect sacrifice, the final part to the ritual, and he knows it. He's just a boy of ten, but he knows why he had been chosen. This cult had chosen him, had likely been the ones to light his house aflame, and they will use him to summon a devil.

And Phantomhives are not the kind of people to go along quietly.

Straining against the arms pinning him down, he screams hysterically, the sound blood-curdling and painful.

 _"Somebody,"_ he chokes, desperate tears streaming unbidden down his face. "SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

The figures, cloaked all in white and _laughing_ , laughing and grinning in a way that Ciel had long since learned to fear, make way for a red-hot iron. It sears into his skin, and once again, Ciel screams.

It is him in the end, that calls the demon.

.

"Jesus Christ!" Dean shouts, stumbling back a few steps in shock. The hunters watch the disturbing scene, spellbound, curses spilling from their lips.

"What the Hell?" Sam contributes helpfully, as smoke billowed from the center of the mysterious torturers.

Only the angel notices the butler, smirking like something is amusing.

.

Ciel awoke on a cold floor to the sound of screams of joy, his stomach lurching and feeling like it might begin to eat itself.

Something had happened.

The demon had come. It's cloaked entirely in feathery black, like a shadow with burning red eyes and stiletto heeled boots.

"I-It really came," a man whispers in horror, before finding his voice and stepping forward. "Demon!" His voice rings too-loudly throughout the now silent room. "Grant me eternal life and wealth!"

The supposed demon sneers.

"I take no orders from the likes of you," he turns to face Ciel, who instinctively shoots forward against the bars of his cage at the thought of a savior, even an unholy one. "You've made a big sacrifice, little one," it purrs, words spilling like tantalizing poison from its jagged teeth. "Your wish?"

It stalks towards the cage like a panther stalking its prey, the crowd parting fluidly to make room for its presence. To anyone else, the air is suffocating and dense. To Ciel? It feels like he can finally breathe.

"I-I want power. Stronger than anyone else's! I want revenge on those who humiliated me! I want to break them like they've broken me! Demon, I'll make a contract with you!"

Sam couldn't believe his ears. Couldn't believe his _eyes._

"What are you doing, kid? Don't!"

Castiel feels a sharp pang of pity for the boy, but shoves it to the side. Child or not, he's still a demon, and demons must be exorcised and killed.

It's the way of things, and who is he to question?

.

"Those who abandon the path of light for the darkness are damned to a fate far worse than death. You are aware of this?"

Ciel grits his teeth at the insinuation that anything is worse than this hell. "Yes," he bites out.

The creature grins wickedly, like a cat in the cream.

"Let us mark our bodies with the contract seal. The more visible the mark, the stronger the bond between predator and prey." A black talon reaches out to stroke Ciel's cheek, and the child represses a shiver. "I want to mark up this beautiful blue eye of yours, little one, filled with despair."

Burning.

Burning.

Burning.

Ciel tilts his head back and screams. The sound hurts to hear, shrill and raw. After what seems like hours, the scream tapers into nothingness and he croaks, with his eye shining purple:

"Kill them."

The creature smirks, and its form melts into a tall man in a suit, with the face of Ciel's father and hair as black as night, red eyes glowing into the darkness.

It stoops easily into a kneeling position, a gloved hand held against the spot where Ciel supposes the thing's heart would be, had it any.

"Yes, my lord."

It sets the world aflame (for a moment Ciel is _back there_ , watching his parents' dying embrace, skin melting together in the heat of the fire), and carries Ciel to safety the way Ciel knows instinctively it always will.

"Have you got a name?" The boy asks, almost impatiently, pressed tight against the creature's muscular chest.

"I am as you call me."

Ciel squirms thoughtfully in the arms of his demon. _His_ demon. The thought is liberating; freeing and terrifying all at once. All that power clenched in his small fist to use at will, answering to his beck and call like a well-trained pet.

"Sebastian. Your name is Sebastian, now."

The newly-named Sebastian turns his head down to face his master.

"May I ask why?"

The child smiles, then, crooked and broken.

"I had a dog named Sebastian, once."

.

After a long silence with only crackles of the fire in the background, Sam finally speaks up. "...So, you call him young master because you formed a contract with him? Wait, I didn't know you can make deals with other demons."

The dark man shakes his head. "Yes, I am bound to him and no, demons cannot form deals with other demons. We can form alliances, but we aren't allowed command over one another. Right now, my master is completely human."

"Then how'd he become a demon? It doesn't make _sense,_ " The youngest Winchester laments, always asking after answers.

"Patience," Sebastian preaches. "His story is not over yet, as you will soon find out."

.

Ciel stares in solemn silence at the blue-gemmed ring, coated in soot and grime. It smells like burnt flesh, and the thought alone _(Mother, Father, burning burning burning)_ is enough to make him retch, dry-heaving into the dirt.

There is, after all, nothing left for him to throw up. Starving tends to do that to you.

He rises, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist.

"I'll need clothes." He says bluntly, to no one in particular. He's wearing a shirt that only just comes to his knees and is torn in more than a few unsavory places. "Clothes befitting an earl. And shelter- there should be an inn just north of here-"

"Unnecessary." The butler interjects calmly. Ciel raises an eyebrow.

"Unnecessary?" He echoes disbelievingly. Sebastian gives a little smirk of pride.

"Of course, my lord. Surely you didn't think I could just stand idle while you despaired over the cleanliness of a piece of _jewelry-"_

"Bite your tongue!" The boy barks sharply, privately thinking that the words of a devil shouldn't hold so much weight. That they shouldn't cut so deeply.

Said demon just leans back in amused silence, like a cat sitting back on its haunches, pleased to have gotten a rise out of the child.

Ciel scoffs in irritation, both at the creature itself and his own foolishness.

"Tell me, Sebastian," he begins, voice cold and detached. "Have you ever lost anything important to you?"

The butler stiffens imperceptibly, but quickly regains composure.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're referring to, young master."

The child sighs. "No, I suppose you wouldn't." He stands on shaking legs, knees scuffed and dirtied. "I suppose you wouldn't."

.

Sam runs a hand through his hair. "That seems like an awful lotta trauma for one kid."

"At least that was the worst of it," Bobby points out gruffly.

"Do kindly shut up," Sebastian interjects sharply, scarlet eyes blazing with an emotion the hunters can't name. It isn't a request.

Almost bashfully, the demon's gaze lowers to the boy laying in his lap.

"My lord is..." A bony hand brushes the slate fringe from his master's forehead in something like affection. "Resilient. Stubbornly so. To call this the worst of his trials is to insult his mortal life."

The butler's fake smile is unnerving.

"And to insult my master, Mr. Singer, is to insult _me."_

But then Ciel releases a particularly pathetic mewl and Sebastian's attention is again returned to the demon-child, fretfully wiping sweat from the boy's face and trying to keep him comfortable.

Dean snorts quietly to himself.

Kid may have been through some rough times, but he's literally been to Hell and back. Ciel Phantomhive needs to learn that he isn't the only one with dead parents and a shitty past.

.


	8. I've Paid My Price

**Author's Note: Another chapter, another 2,000 words of drowning in homoerotic subtext and angst. Hi, my name is Mary, I'm trash, nice to meet you.**

 **IF FOR SOME REASON YOU IGNORED THE NOTICE ON THE LAST CHAPTER: I HAVE EDITED** _ **EVERYTHING**_ **. PLEASE REREAD THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS.**

 **Chapter Eight: I've Paid My Price**

.

.

.

Ciel's parents are dead.

It isn't as difficult to come to terms with as he thought it would be.

His parents are dead. Their graves are in a courtyard next to thousands of others, including his own empty one ("May the Lord find him in his straying and shepherd him through His gates"). It's almost unnerving to see his name etched into the slab of marble alongside his dead family.

The graveyard is surrounded by intricate iron gates that creak as Ciel eases them open, butler following after him silently as a shadow.

He stands before his parents for the first time since their death, and he does so in a ragged nightshirt and the company of a demon. It is without a doubt improper, but Ciel…

He doesn't want to be alone, anymore.

"Mother. Father." He greets, voice steady as it ever has been. He refuses to dance around the topic at hand. "I should have saved you." It comes out harsher than he had meant it, more spat than confessed.

He has paid his penance for not rescuing his family. He wears the price of living in the brand on his back and the seal in his eye.

And yet the guilt of being the sole survivor is still undeniably suffocating.

"I will avenge you."

The words are heavy with intent, and Sebastian slinks a possessive arm around his waist at their utterance, bending down until his mouth is level with the boy's neck.

" _My lord,"_ he rasps, impossibly sharp canines scraping at the delicate skin at Ciel's throat. The child swallows and crimson eyes follow the motion hungrily. "If you wish to keep your soul much longer, you will not say such things in my presence. Not while my form is still so volatile."

Ciel very nearly chokes on his tongue. All semblance of propriety vanishes with the demon's closeness, effectively ruining what was meant as a heartfelt farewell.

His shame quickly gives way to anger.

"Sebastian." The boy barks, voice far colder than it had been mere moments prior. "Off." His lip curls up in a snarl and it sends the demon flying off of him like a wounded dog.

New contracts must be especially potent, if the effect they have on such a powerful demon is so strong. _He_ is strong.

He is strong, and free, and he is not alone.

Salty tears of relief flow from his cheeks and settle into the various cuts on his body. He's so giddy that he can hardly feel the sting.

.

"So that's what he meant by us," mutters a certain socially-awkward angel to himself.

Dean turns around to find himself mere inches away from Castiel's face and releases a long-suffering sigh. "Cas. We've talked about this before, remember?" He gestures between the two of them. "Personal bubble, dude."

Castiel's forehead wrinkles, brows furrowed in thought. "Ah, I apologize…" he mumbles, stepping back slightly to allow for Dean's space issue.

"So what did you mean by that?" Dean inquires once there's a respectable amount of space between them.

"In the last memory Ciel mentioned that he wanted revenge on those that did such horrible things to 'us.' I assume that whoever kidnapped him also murdered his parents and burned the house."

"Well, it seems that today's youth hasn't fully lost hope," chuckles Sebastian from within the Devil's Trap.

"I am hardly young," Castiel intones, crystal eyes burning into the demon's. "This vessel is the only reason why you don't burn at the sight of me."

"What a sight that would be. An angel cast out of Heaven defeating a demon cast out of Hell."

The air thickens, the pair never breaking eye contact and Sebastian smirking as he continues to pet his master's hair.

 _Creepy,_ Sam thinks, and shudders. But when have demons ever cared about weirding people out?

Castiel scowls and averts his eyes, and Sebastian notches another point for himself on his mental scoreboard.

Angels: 2,399 - Demons: 2,400

.

It is not until the sun has long since set behind them and evening has become night that Ciel and his butler leave the graveyard.

"Your health is already fragile, my lord," a silky voice chastens, gloved hands pressing on the boy's clothed shoulders.

Ciel flinches, his whole body jerking at the contact, but he relaxes slightly, remembering himself. The hands on him are demon, not human.

"The manor has been prepared for your return."

"Prepared?"

"Of course. Restored to its former glory, as promised."

Demons can do anything asked of them, he realizes, and almost smiles.

"You truly are a miracle, aren't you?" The earl mutters under his breath in reverence. His butler doesn't show any signs of having heard, for which Ciel is grateful. He can't have a demon thinking of him as weak, being impressed by such parlor tricks.

"I've taken the liberty of drawing you a bath, young master."

"A bath?" Ciel repeats stupidly, the notion sounding too good to be true. "Don't just stand there!" He snaps after a beat of silence. "Take me to it!"

The monster chuckles and leads Ciel up a familiar path, up through gardens and past gates that only a few hours ago were burnt to the ground and rusted, respectively.

Phantomhive Manor is as beautiful as he thought it would be, and it seems to glow in the moonlight, promising comfort and warmth.

He huffs a breath of incredulous laughter as the heavy doors are pushed open by his butler. Details of before his parents' death- little things that no one ever noticed and that Sebastian couldn't possibly know- all there, restored to their former glory and gleaming, brand-new but just as he remembered.

The boy practically glides up the stairway, tailed by his servant.

"My lord? If I recall correctly, it was _I_ who was to lead _you_ to the bath."

"Nonsense," Ciel scoffs, already envisioning the claw-footed tub brimming with warm water. He takes confident strides into the master bedroom and then to the attached washroom.

It truly is a sight for sore eyes. Steam rolls off the water in great curls- the demon hadn't been lying when he'd said it was ready.

The shirt he's wearing is practically ripped off in his haste to get in the bath, and before Sebastian can even ask him to slow down, he's up to his chin in bubbles, small frame almost completely submerged in the bathwater.

At first the heat is welcome, penetrating the cold with ease.

But it just gets hotter.

And hotter.

"Demon," Ciel begins coolly, drawing himself up out of the water so as not to be scalded. "Do you even know how to properly heat baths?"

"Of course."

"Obviously you don't, otherwise you would not be attempting to _boil me!"_ He pulls his hand back and shoves forward, making hot water splash all over the butler.

Sebastian, to his credit, doesn't flinch, and takes the abuse like a man, er, like a demon.

"I think I'll wash _myself_ , from now on, until you learn how to find a proper bathing temperature."

Sebastian frowns at this.

"But sir-"

" _Out,_ Sebastian."

.

"Ain't you supposed to be the perfect butler? Fulfilling dreams, granting wishes, all that shit?" Bobby asks, adjusting his cap.

Sam sniggers with Dean while Sebastian just glares at the whole lot of them, even Cas (especially Cas), who had taken it upon himself to sit on the floor and hum quietly to the tune of some Metallica song or another.

"I had, at the time, not been to the human world in some thousand years and had grown unused to human customs. You must also realize that demons do not have the same senses as humans do. All perception is heightened to unbelievable standards. What is hot to humans is not necessarily hot to me."

Dean refrains from making a crude joke at this.

.

"Young master?"

One knock.

Two knocks.

"My lord, you've been in there for quite some time, now."

Three knocks.

No response.

Sebastian opens the door.

Ciel is asleep in the bath.

The child must be very tired, to have fallen asleep after making such a great fuss. Sebastian removes his gloves and rolls his sleeves up, grabbing a washcloth and pulling the boy up to a sitting position.

Ciel jerks violently and screams, _"No, don't touch me, no, stop it!"_

Sebastian draws back as quickly as if he had been burned. Ciel quiets and, cheeks burning in shame from having thought his butler was a threat, tries to take the cloth from Sebastian's hands.

"I told you I can wash myself."

Sebastian holds the cloth out of Ciel's reach.

"Please, sir, you're tired. Allow me to wash your body."

 _Hands, touching, rubbing,_ _ **lingering**_ _. Clutching at his arms, gripping at his thighs. Long nails biting into the flesh of his back, clawing 'til it bleeds. Touching on, around, inside. Laughter as he cries._

Something in his expression must look complacent, because the demon starts scrubbing him pink, running the washcloth across Ciel's body in circular motions. Ciel's eyes glaze over slightly and he is very nearly _back there_ , the only anchor he has to reality the consistent, firm strokes of cloth against skin.

.

There's a huge wardrobe of clean clothes awaiting him in the bedroom, and Sebastian patiently dresses him, despite Ciel's flinching as the demon's cold fingers graze his brand.

"You must get used to touching, my lord," Sebastian murmurs, tugging a sock up Ciel's leg and fastening it into place. "If we are to maintain the illusion of a proper master and servant."

"What I am and am not used to is none of your concern."

"It is my concern if you insist upon being a petulant child! As head of the house of Phantomhive, you're to grow up _now,_ sir. You've no time to be throwing tantrums."

Ciel scowls before lowering his eyes to the floor, looking decidedly at his new shoes and not at his butler.

"You're right." He admits, and pushes himself off of the bed he was sitting on. "And as the head of the Phantomhive house, don't you think you ought to make me dinner?"

Sebastian smirks, and presses a hand to his chest in a gesture Ciel would eventually come to accept as the demon's trademark.

"Yes, my lord."

When Ciel descends the stairs a few minutes later, the dining room table is set with a huge spread of various meals, each one extravagant and fit for a king.

"So on top of not knowing how baths work, you also seem uncomprehending of how starvation is handled."

"Why, whatever do you mean? I took the time in making you a meal, and you sit here ungrateful? Awfully _childish_ of you, wouldn't you say?"

Ciel shoots Sebastian an unamused look.

"Don't be snide. You're a butler, not a nanny. But surely you know that after starving one can't eat such rich things, if anything at all?"

Sebastian has the decency to feign sheepishness before clearing away the food in the blink of an eye.

"I suppose I've learned, then." He replaces the heavy dinner with a light soup and savory biscuits.

"Evidently, you haven't," Ciel sighs. "Normal butlers can't rebuild mansions in a single night, nor cook a feast in the blink of an eye. Guests to the house will get suspicious, you realize."

"So you wish for me to do things step-by-step, as a human would?"

"Whenever possible, yes. Or at least pretend to. Humans can't make things without the proper ingredients."

"I see." Sebastian looks thoughtful, as if having had never considered this before.

Ciel spoons a bit a soup into his mouth and nearly picks the bowl up to slurp the whole lot of it in one go. It makes him a bit sick to eat, but anything to put a dent in the _hunger._

After he finishes the soup and crackers, he wipes his mouth daintily and excuses himself to the bedroom, where he slips off his shoes and collapses onto the bed, soft and warm for the first time in God-knows-how-long.

Sebastian comes in shortly after the boy has fallen asleep, blows out the candles, and tucks the covers in around the sleeping child.

"Good night, my lord." And he closes the door.

.


	9. Nothing But A Spoilt Brat

**Author's Note: Hey guys! Long time no see, ehehe… Don't hurt me, please.**

 **Basically, in this chapter Ciel's a whiny, pampered lil bitch. It was fun to write.**

 **P.S. If you haven't seen the notice on my profile, I'm not going to be able to update between May 16 and September 7, because I won't have the resources to post anything. I'm REALLY SUPER SORRY. On the bright side, that means when September 7 does roll around, I'll be posting everything I wrote over the summer all at once…**

 **Chapter Nine: Nothing But A Spoilt Brat**

.

.

.

"Breakfast today was…" Ciel scowls, searching for the proper word. _"Abysmal._ It seems that you can't even master simple instructions. One wonders how you intend to be my butler if you fail at the most basic of tasks."

"I followed the recipe to the letter, my lord," Sebastian sighs, and snips away at Ciel's too-long hair. It feels like they've had this conversation a thousand times.

Ciel huffs and adjusts himself on the stool, bits of hair falling to the ground as he does so.

.

"I don't think that I'll ever get used to seeing that on his eye," Dean murmurs, and Sam nods, deep in thought.

"Does it always have to be like that?" Sam inquires. Sebastian doesn't look surprised by the sudden question.

"On the eye?" The demon shakes his head, braiding and unbraiding bits of Ciel's hair like it's a common occurrence. The sheer familiarity is unnerving. "No, the seal can be placed anywhere on the summoner's body. The more visible the mark, the stronger the bond between predator and prey."

.

Sebastian tilts his ward's head slightly to the right. _Snip._

"There's much to be done today, my lord."

"Yes. I know little of this household, as my _predecessor_ passed away before he could explain anything properly." This is sneered as though it's Ciel's father's fault that he was murdered and then set on fire in his own home.

"The household matters are a given, young master. As current head of the family, you must attain a wisdom and education that overcomes that of adults if you are to be taken at all seriously. High society preys on the weak, my lord. You will soon find that the worst monsters, sir, are plainly human."

Ciel's eye widens.

The butler adjusts a clip and Ciel's fringe falls in his face, trimmed neatly and looking quite professional. He straightens himself slightly, shrugging off the towel and standing, posture proud but wary as Sebastian brushes hair from his neck and clothes.

"There is a shameful amount of duties you've been unknowingly neglecting. Rival companies will exploit any weakness, including ignorance. Might I suggest hiring a governess-"

"No."

Sebastian chuckles and places the brush on a side table in order to rest his hands on Ciel's shoulders. He doesn't miss Ciel's shiver.

"Please, master. It's only practical."

"I don't wish to have anyone else in the manor right now. I won't have it."

"Sir, I only wish what's best for you. We have not yet reached the level of 'Earl and Butler'. We are to become as close to real thing as soon as possible. Besides," The demon smirks, eyes swirling red. He tilts his lord's chin up with a white-clothed thumb. "Such a frightened expression doesn't suit you."

Ciel smacks away Sebastian's hand.

"I hadn't realized I'd called for an advisor rather than a butler!"

He storms off, red-faced, and Sebastian lets him go.

He's vaguely aware that this is Ciel's version of a tantrum.

.

Sam knows the kid had it hard. Really, he does. Being an orphan is a difficult life for anyone, and being tortured, so young…

He shudders to think of it.

But a beautiful house is a beautiful house is a beautiful house. Life for Ciel Phantomhive may not have been strictly easy, but compared to anything he and Dean have been through, compared to Hell, Purgatory, compared to _dying,_ and God forbid he even _think_ of his time in the Cage _-_ but this isn't a game of "Who Can Top This".

Hunters have depressing childhoods, and honestly, Sam has yet to see something so sick and frightening that it could be used against the demons.

If they have to sort through all the boy's memories of the past two centuries, it's going to be a real snooze-fest.

Watching the various scenes unfold before him, he wonders if this Meatus Water is worth it.

.

"Today's tea is Mariage Freres Darjeeling," Sebastian announces, and Ciel takes a cautious sip of the piping hot liquid.

He stares down at the intricately decorated teacup, eyes tracing the swirls and painted curlicues.

"Demon," Ciel begins coolly, twitching in annoyance. "Open your hands."

Sebastian, bemused, holds his hands out, palms up and opened.

 _SPLOOSH!_

The little tyrant tosses the cup back on the table, careless of whether or not it breaks. Sebastian very carefully does not react to the boiling tea soaking his gloves and seeping into the carpet.

"What must I do to make you _learn?!_ This isn't tea, this is just brown water! Start again!"

Sebastian's bow is stiff and jerky. What had he been thinking, saddling himself with this brat?

.

Dean guffaws, clutching his stomach. The other hunters and angel can't help but smile at the sight.

Dean mimes wiping away a tear.

"Wow, Jeeves, you just got told by a kid. That takes _skill!"_

Sebastian's glare could burn holes through steel.

.

"Young master, hunting is a gentleman's sport," Sebastian sings. "And, in your current state, you are no gentleman."

"Bite your tongue," Ciel snarls, and knows from his butler's raised brow that he's only proved Sebastian's point. "I'm willing to learn. That should be all that matters to you, dog."

"Agreed, sir," Sebastian dutifully replies, but any fool can see that he certainly _does not_ agree.

Sebastian takes him outside that afternoon for target practice in the gardens.

"Draw in your chin, my lord, and aim carefully." **(1)** Ciel follows his butler's instructions as best he can, but even then the shot goes several feet wide of the target.

Sebastian braces himself for another incident like this morning's, waits for Ciel to stomp off or to throw the rifle on the ground, but Ciel just reloads and tries again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

"It seems that your dreams of hunting on horseback are simply that, young master. Dreams."

Ciel scoffs, the noise almost imperceptibly cracked. He's upset by this. Angry that he can't do it right. If he looks closely, there are tears of frustration shimmering in the master's visible eye.

It's funny. Humans are funny.

"Leave me to my work, Sebastian," Ciel bites out. Sebastian dips into a shallow bow and smiles indulgently.

"If you think it will help, young master."

.

Dean remembers training.

" _Eyes on the target, boy, 'less you lookin' to get bit."_

" _You ain't firing straight, soldier. You wanna die? You want Sam to die? Straighten up, then, shoulders back."_

He remembers him and Sammy digging people-sized holes in the dirt, having Dad bury them and then have to dig themselves back out. With and without a casket, six feet underground.

 _Breaking fingernails drag grooves across wood, splinters dig into skin. Scritch scratch, scritch scratch. Clawing inch by inch out out the soil._

 _Dad's got them on a stopwatch timer. He's been sitting back with a beer for the past three hours waiting patiently for them to resurface._

" _Gonna have to try harder than that, son. Gotta try harder than that."_

There's something paternal about the way Sebastian teaches Ciel how to shoot, something soft that Dean sort of wishes he had had more of.

It's no good to be jealous of a demon kid, though, so for once Dean decides it might be better to keep quiet.

.

Ciel stands before his butler turned tutor, pride the only thing keeping him from wringing his hands in nervous fright.

Sebastian has donned spectacles, and is examining Ciel's paper with a critical eye, making little 'mm-hmm' sounds every now and again that only serve to make the boy more anxious.

"Another mistranslation," Sebastian declares, pointing to a string of Latin on the page. "You're to write this as 'at first' not 'from the start'. Have you already forgotten that you made the same mistake yesterday?"

His smile is deceptively pleasant.

"Might I ask you to remove your ring, sir?" Ciel complies, unsure as to where exactly this is going.

"Yes, that's right. Open your hands, please."

If Sebastian plans to dump tea on Ciel's hands the way Ciel had done to him, there will be a problem.

 _Smack!_

A ruler snaps down sharply on Ciel's open palms, making the boy release a small, indignant yelp.

"Transcribe the poems over until you can learn to translate correctly. Go on, then, begin!"

.

Never mind.

Dean isn't jealous anymore, only sympathetic.

Latin lessons had been the bane of his existence. Fuck that, man. He's glad it's over.

.

Inhuman screeches from the parlor.

The sickening _squelch_ of knives burying themselves into raw flesh, imbedding into brain.

 _Ignore it._

The terrible cracking of bone.

The glass on the chandelier clinks together harshly. Sebastian's probably just swung himself from it, the show-off.

 _Just ignore it._

Screams so loud and bloodcurdling you'd think they were being tortured.

Ciel heaves an exasperated breath and flings the bedcovers from himself. Padding over to the door, he pokes his head through and shouts:

"Keep it down in there, why don't you? Some of us actually require sleep!"

Sebastian is covered in blood from head to toe, surrounded by intruders in all directions.

"I'm very sorry, my lord, but it seems as though one of your competitors has sent the equivalent of a small army to eliminate you, and they're being quite troublesome."

"I can't stand this every night! Next time I expect you to at least kill them quietly!"

.

"Killing people for fun now, are we?" Bobby snorts.

Sebastian smirks and doesn't correct him.

.

 _Run._

They're here. They've come back for me.

 _They're dragging me down with them._

.

Ciel's body on the bed thrashes up, trembling. Castiel watches on in fascination as Sebastian stoops down, murmuring whispered nonsense to the child, hands gripping Ciel's tightly.

The sound of his voice and the warmth of his touch seems to sooth Ciel, even though he can't really hear him from how deep he's gone inside his own head. The shaking at least stops.

This is obviously something that has happened before.

Not the part where his memories are projected for everyone to see, but definitely the part where he relives them.

He has nightmares often, then.

Unfortunate.

.

 _They're still here._

 _Laughing, crying, screaming._

 _Pulling me down to Hell._

His hands are too clean for what they've done, and now, in the candlelight, he can see the blood coating them, cherry red slick, dripping to his elbows and soaking through his shirt.

 _It's not real,_ he tells himself, but the thought never really settles, leaving him shaken and trying to wipe the blood off on his sheets. Phantom hands grab at him, churning his stomach. The blood still doesn't come off.

 _Betrayal,_ the voices hiss. _You watched us die and did nothing._

"What could I have done?" Ciel cries, beseeches the spirits to let him be, just this once.

 _You only saved yourself. You've only ever saved yourself._

 _You should have died with your parents._

 _You should have died with_ _ **us**_ _._

The words crawl up under his skin and rot there, the same thing he's been thinking since the whole mess began.

He feels sick.

 _We need you._

 _We miss you._

 _Come and see us, darling, won't you?_

The voices have changed from the children to his parents.

This is worse, somehow.

All he can do is scream.

.

Sam understands hallucinations. Perhaps better than anyone present.

It's hard to differentiate between dream and reality, sometimes.

And well, he's always been the emotional type ("You're such a huge girl sometimes, Sammy."), so really it's no surprise when he starts to feel the sympathy well up inside him and suddenly he isn't even sure he has the capacity to kill this poor kid,

He can't help but wonder who Ciel is talking to, though.

As if answering his unspoken question, Sebastian pipes up with an explanation, like always.

"As you know, my young Lord has seen death, but more than what you might think. He was not the only child being held captive. At the beginning of the two months, there were over two dozen children, but death picked them off one by one-"

"But if death was so frequent, how did Ciel survive?" Sam interrupts, half-expecting the answer to be dumb luck. The Winchesters certainly have enough of _that_ to spare.

"His kidnappers had favored my young lord and picked him as the Chosen One. He was branded with the mark of the noble beast, demons, and was supposed to be the final sacrifice so they could call forth Satan himself."

 _Lucifer._ All trails lead back to him, don't they?

Sam nods, lost in thought. "But you came, instead."

The hunter glances between the cowering Ciel who continues to talk to himself and hide under the comforter and the unconscious Ciel who's using his butler's lap as a pillow.

"Ironic," Cas chuckles hollowly. "He's saved by one horrific ending only to be damned to another."

.

"Young master, are you all right?"

Unfamiliar. He doesn't know this voice, and no one here would ever call him 'young master'.

"W-Who are you?"

He cringes at the sound of his own voice. _Stupid, you're not meant to talk to them. They hurt you if you talk to them._

A man, tall and lean, is suddenly at the foot of the bed. Ciel startles but the man's presence is somehow… comforting.

"My name is Sebastian. I am your butler."

It comes back to Ciel slowly, in pieces.

He's not in a cage, he's home, in bed, warm. His butler is here and he'll keep him safe- he's a demon, after all, and therefore immortal.

No, no harm will come to him tonight.

"Did you have a bad dream again?"

He swallows. _Weak._

"Y-Yes."

Sebastian nods, almost to himself.

"What action would you like me to take? Perhaps a glass of milk? Or shall I leave a candle lit?"

Ciel grits his teeth. He will not be _pacified_ like a _child!_

"I'm fine. Really, I am."

"If I am not needed, then I will leave you to your sleep. Good night, young master."

"Wait."

Sebastian waits.

"Stay there, just until I fall asleep."

"Of course, sir."

And he does.

.


	10. Meet the Fam

**Author's Note: Long time no see. It's, uh… it's been a long year. I have to apologize to you guys for all the times I was like "dudes I'm gonna update more often I promise, lol I'm garbage haha" and then immediately didn't update.**

 **With that said, dudes I'm gonna update more often I promise, lol I'm garbage haha. Also my writing style has changed since I first adopted this story (yeah no shit it's been like three years) but I'm gonna do my best to maintain my original style.**

 **Happy New Year! Here's to a year with hopefully more than two updates~!**

 **Chapter Ten: Meet the Fam**

.

.

.

The manor is blissfully quiet, for once, and Ciel is all the happier for it. Ever since he'd given Sebastian the OK to acquire more servants, the house has been uncomfortably loud, what with everything being either set on fire or broken into pieces.

 _Chef_ Bardroy—like he can be called such a thing when he can scarcely bake a cake—is in the dining room, sitting on his hands and facing the corner. Sebastian has kicked him out of the kitchen and made him sit in 'time-out', something Ciel himself has experienced a number of times for getting too angry during his Latin studies.

Bard should consider himself lucky that Sebastian didn't bother to hit him. Ciel's hands still bear red marks where the damned dog had taken his pointer and slapped him across the palms. Or write lines! _God,_ the sheer number of times Ciel's been required to write "I will not steal sweets from the cupboard before dinner" or, "I will not throw my books across the room" to please his butler is mind-boggling.

Either way, the 'chef' is still sulking in the corner, Mey-Rin seems to be managing through her horrible near-sightedness without shattering any of his good china, and Finny has not once underestimated his own strength.

Life is good.

But of course everything always inevitably goes to shit anyway, because he is Ciel Phantomhive and Ciel Phantomhive is not allowed to catch a break.

"AAAHHH! Oh dear, oh dear! Look out, look out, lookout, LOOKOUT LOOKOUT—"

But it's too late.

A teacart has already hurtled into the parlor with the bumbling idiot that is Madame Red's butler hitching an unintentional ride on the back of it, screaming his head off along the way.

Ciel pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to breathe. Inhale, exhale, release all the murderous intentions from your body.

God. Fucking. Damn it.

Every. Single. Time.

"OOH OOH, HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT!"

"I am so sorry, Finnian, I'm just so clumsy, here, let me help you." Grelle pulls a handkerchief from his breast pocket and attempts to dab away the tea from Finny's shirt.

"No, I'm fine, really," Finny insists, backing away from Grelle and straight into the china cabinet, incidentally causing every single dish the Phantomhive family has ever owned to come crashing to the floor, where they all shatter irreparably.

Honestly, with the way things are going, Ciel won't be surprised if the servants manage to burn the house down again from sheer thoughtlessness.

As if on cue, Bard bursts in, flamethrower in hand.

"Mister Sebastian said I'm free from time-out!" He cheers, and flares the flamethrower for effect.

It's the last straw.

"I hate you all," Ciel announces imperiously, and sends Sebastian to fetch his coat and hat. He needs to clear his head. Take a walk.

Maybe take a drink, too, if he happens upon someplace with good brandy.

"Young master, don't stray too far. Remember we have a pickup scheduled at that shop."

Damn, damn, _damn!_

Fine. He doesn't need liquor anyway. True noblemen are able to clear their heads without the use of alcohol.

He sits in the garden and buries his head in his hands, wondering when his life became this hectic mess.

.

Back inside the manor, the servants console a blubbering Grelle, who's taken it upon himself to aim a dagger at his own heart, posing with it dramatically.

"I'm so sorry, I don't know how to make it up to you! I-I can't do anything right! The only thing I know how to do is die!" He wails, and makes to plunge the knife into his chest.

"He hasn't managed to die right, yet, either," Bard stage-whispers to Finny, who gives him a good-natured punch on the arm that bruises almost instantaneously. Kid doesn't know his own strength.

Sebastian stops Grelle in the nick of time, holding the inferior butler by the shoulder.

"There's no need for that. Think of the mess you'd make. It would take hours to scour the blood from between the floorboards, and then I'd have to get the floor wax and clean the whole parlor, and the _smell…"_ He looks thoughtful, contemplating all the various cleaning methods and getting lost in his fantasy of wiping Grelle's blood from the floor.

Grelle is, of course, taken with the expression immediately. He looks deep into wine-red eyes and falls a little more in love with him.

He stands there a while longer after Sebastian leaves, star-struck. "You're so kind, Sebastian!" Grelle murmurs to himself in an awed whisper.

He wipes the tears from his cheeks and moves into the kitchen, where Sebastian has begun leading the servants in how to prepare a proper pot of tea.

.

Dean buries his face in his hands, massaging his temples with a groan.

"So who are all these new people? Geez, dude, if I had known that your life was this confusing, I wouldn't have asked to see it."

Ignoring the insult, Sebastian begins his explanation. "Those were our servants. Loyal to their deaths, they were." He's quiet for a beat before continuing. "The maid was named Mey-Rin. She was dreadfully clumsy, and she was quite…" Sebastian coughs awkwardly. _"Taken_ with me. The chef was Bardroy, who was impatient and liked fire. The gardener was Finnian, who didn't know his own strength, and Tanaka was the young lord's steward before me."

"And who was the guy with glasses? He looked _taken_ with you, too," Sam asks through a poorly concealed smirk.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. _"That_ is Grelle. He's a bit of a pain. At that time, he was still Madame Red's servant, and she had entrusted him to us to teach him how to be better at his job."

No one misses that he used the present tense when speaking about Grelle. What exactly that implies, though, none of them are quite sure.

"Sounds like you had your hands full," Bobby comments after the silence has drawn on long enough to be considered awkward.

Sebastian just nods and turns back to the memories.

.

"Young master, the carriage is ready for our departure, if you'd like to leave."

Ciel makes a valiant effort to steady his breathing before nodding and taking Sebastian's proffered hand, letting him be pulled up from the bench.

"It would be best for me to not be in the house, right now," Ciel agrees.

He lets himself be led to the carriage and helped up into it, glad for the quiet.

.

"Just how old are you?" Sam asks as the _horse-drawn carriage_ pulls away from the manor. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were older than Bobby."

Dean grins at his brother. "And everyone knows Bobby's older'n dirt."

"Ha-ha," Bobby drawls, folding his arms over his chest. "Let's make fun of Uncle Bobby, the guy who made sure our ungrateful little asses were clothed and fed since we were kids, who taught us our first exorcisms, who taught us how to fix cars and speak Latin and—"

"Damn, Bobby, can't a guy make a joke?"

"If you're quite done," Sebastian interjects. "There is still a considerable quantity of memory to go through, and the process will not be made faster by your incessant bickering."

 _"The process will not be made faster by your incessant blah-de-blah,"_ Dean mocks in an exaggerated English accent.

Very mature.

"I have been through this experience several times before," Castiel admits, like he's divulging a great secret. "And never has it gone this way."

"You've done this before?"

Castiel nods gravely.

"Centuries ago, when Father wasn't being... oh, what was that phrase you used, Sam?"

"'Deadbeat dad', Cas."

"Right. When God wasn't being a deadbeat dad, and We were still under his control, there was a council of sorts; in those days, newborn demons got their memories searched by angels before entering Hell. It was really a very interesting process. I can go into further detail if you'd like, it's awfully intriguing, maybe a bit complex-"

Whatever Cas was originally going to say gets drowned out by the rumbling noise as the group is levitated several inches in the air, their feet moved forward by an invisible force.

As though being lifted by an elevator, they float along, following the path of the carriage as it goes to Ciel and Sebastian's unknown destination.

And Dean is freaked the fuck out. He _hates_ flying, more than super demons and their bratty pets.

He definitely doesn't put his hand on Cas' shoulder for stability (and, in theory, if he hypothetically touched his angel friend's hypothetical arm, it would be, on paper if not in practice, very hypothetically macho and undoubtedly very heterosexual) and he definitely does not make a tiny high-pitched noise of terror.

What? No. He would never.

.

"Hello, boy," The store clerk says amiably, eyeing the obvious expense of Ciel's clothing. "Did your father send you in for something?"

It could be worse, Ciel tries to tell himself. If he looked poor, it could be so much worse. Beggars get chased out of shops like this with sticks. Poor boys get beaten.

"Actually, my lord is here on his own business," Sebastian says as he steps in, holding a slip of paper between two fingers. "We placed an order some days ago, I believe. We've come to retrieve it, if you don't mind."

The flustered realization on the shopkeeper's face manages to quell some of Ciel's anger.

"Oh, you're here for _that_ walking stick. I must confess, I'd been wondering who would have use for such a short cane."

No, it's back. The frustration is back.

A brief, nearly violent conversation later, and they're back on the way to the manor.

"That strength of Finny's is a menace," Ciel complains, fighting to be heard over the noise of the streets as they walk to their carriage. "How does one accidentally break a walking stick? It's such a pain to order a new one."

"Certainly. What a pity to go to all that trouble, too. You haven't had a growth spurt in years."

"Spite is ugly, Sebastian."

"Of course, my lord. Though I must remind you that anger is equally unattractive."

"Sebastian."

"Yes, young master?"

"Be quiet."

.

"Oh. My. God," Sam wheezes, clutching at his chest.

"Who killed a unicorn in here?" Dean howls.

Sebastian clutches his master's unconscious hand in sympathy.

.

Stuffed animals, streamers, cut-out paper hearts, ribbons, and all manner of cute things, all done up in a ghastly shade of pastel glitter pink, all over his beautiful mansion.

"What is this?"

Baby blue.

"Please, tell me it's not..."

Lavender.

"Tell me it isn't..."

Soft white rabbit ears on Finny's head and matching paw-shaped mittens, and _forget that he broke Ciel's cane, Finny is innocent, God, he's innocent. A horrifying casualty of…_

Of...

 _"CIEL!"_

"Elizabeth. It's so good to see you."

Even though it isn't. He's being suffocated in bone-crushing hug, and he's basically choking on his fiance's hair.

"I told you, call me Lizzie. Oh, every time I see you, you just get cuter!"

"Lady Elizabeth," Sebastian greets, dragging Grelle behind him by what appears to be a large ribbon tied around his neck like a noose.

"Aw," Lizzie pouts. "But he made such a cute decoration for the salon."

"Right. A decoration."

"I was on the verge of death," Grelle chokes weakly from the floor. Everyone ignores him.

"Lizzie," Ciel begins, trying in vain to redirect Elizabeth's attention to more important matters.

"What are you doing here? Where's Auntie?"

Elizabeth clasps their hands together.

"I couldn't help myself! I snuck out to see you! Oh, isn't it exciting! It-It's like a romance, isn't it? Just like a play!"

"You know Auntie already disapproves of our marriage. Why on earth would you give her more reasons?"

.

Dean whistles. "That's kinda messed up, isn't it? They're just kids, right? And are they _cousins?"_

"It wasn't uncommon during that time for children to get engaged and then marry when they come of age," Sam says. Dean fakes a yawn.

"Lady Elizabeth was the daughter of Francis, my lord's paternal aunt. So they were cousins. Though," Sebastian grimaces. "It was sometimes hard to believe that they were related at all."

.

"Say! I've got a fabulous idea! Since the mansion looks so splendid and all," Elizabeth bites her lip and gives a girlish little squeal. "We should have a ball!"

"A ball? Elizabeth, I'm not so sure-"

"You'll wear the clothes I picked out for you, won't you, Ciel? Oh, and I'll go shopping with Paula for a new gown."

She closes her eyes and sways to imaginary music.

"Dance with me, Ciel, won't you?"

They spin clumsily for a moment before Ciel stumbles to a stop.

"Lizzie, I'm not sure that a ball right now would be the most practical of ideas, I have important business to attend to- associates to meet with, you know how it is."

"But Ciel, you never let yourself have fun anymore! I'll tell you what," Elizabeth coos, tugging Ciel into yet another painfully tight hug. "I'll go shopping, and by the time I come back, you'll be all warmed up to the idea of a ball. All right?"

Ciel sighs.

"If it makes you happy."

A delighted twirl later and Lizzie is nearly skipping away.

"Come, Paula, we've a dress to buy!"

.

"The wisest option, I believe, would be to indulge her and then ask her to leave, my lord."

Ciel scowls at the mere idea of hosting a party, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms like an indignant child.

"I've neither the time nor resources to indulge her, Sebastian. I'm a busy man, you know."

"All she wants is a dance, young master. You _can_ dance, can't you?"

Ciel looks pointedly at the papers littering his desk and not at his butler.

"My, my," Sebastian purrs. "This does explain why you play the wallflower act at parties. That won't do at all. It is called 'social dancing' for a reason, sir. A gentleman of your status is expected to dance, make light conversation with his partner, even. If you continue to reject such invitations, your reputation will plummet."

"And my reputation is your responsibility, is that it?"

"As your butler I'm required to educate you on such things, yes."

"What of a tutor?"

Sebastian draws his pocketwatch from the folds of his jacket and clicks it open. "There's no time, I'm afraid. With your approval, I will instruct you."

Ciel very nearly chokes.

"A-And what, pray tell, do devils know of dancing?"

"There's no time to waste, my lord. I would rather teach you what I know than leave you defenseless."

"Defenseless?" Ciel laughs. "You make it sound like a brawl!"

"Social interaction of this high status is war, my lord. Come now, put your hand on my shoulder."

.

This scene would be funny, Bobby thinks, if it wasn't so damn creepy.

Sebastian is way too tall for Ciel to reach properly, so Sebastian's having to guide the boy to him and hold him in the proper place as they dance.

The pair of them are just so _touchy._

Even now, Ciel's lying down, asleep, for all intents and purposes, and Sebastian's got his head in his lap and is alternating between holding his hands and playing with his hair and checking his forehead for signs of fever.

It's...

It's a lot to take in.

.

"Your instinct for dance, my lord, is not so much lacking as it is completely absent."

"Well, if you weren't so bloody tall, then maybe I could be better!" Ciel snaps.

"More importantly," Sebastian says, tugging at Ciel's cheeks. "You would do best to get rid of that glum expression. It's rude to the lady."

Ciel tries to adjust his expression to something more pleasant, but only manages to look as if he's in pain.

"Honestly, young master, you're not even _trying-"_

And then Ciel strikes him across the face.

Sebastian doesn't react, but a red mark blooms on his cheekbone. He looks down at Ciel in mild surprise.

"Well now, we _are_ tempermental today, aren't we?"

Ciel regrets his actions almost immediately. He shouldn't be angry with Sebastian. It's not his fault he's fucking tall and it's not his fault the walking stick salesman called him short and it's not his fault Finny shattered all of his mother's china this morning.

But that doesn't change the fact that he _is_ angry.

"I can't bring myself to even tolerate you at the moment."

He storms out of the room because, Earl of Phantomhive or not, he is thirteen years old and he is allowed to storm out of rooms, sometimes.

.

.

.

 **I had to cut this chapter short because I'm in a rush to get this posted before January 2nd and it looks like I'm going to be late anyway. Whoops.**

 **Reviews are excellent, if you'd like to leave one. Thank you to Resistant Raisin for letting me adopt her story and letting me ruin it with angst and gay.**


	11. Sam Gets Into It, A Little

**Author's Note: Hey kids, welcome back to another installment of "Yaoi and Sadness", it's your host, Mary, back at it again with a six-month late chapter.**

 **Thanks to Resistant Raisin, as always.**

 **One more thing- this chapter is short, but that's because there's gonna be another one within the month. And at this point, the plot is kind of wandering away from canon, but it's gonna be ok, don't worry. I got it under control. Mostly.**

 **Chapter Eleven: Sam Gets Into It, a Little**

.

.

.

Ciel stomps into the foyer to find his fiancé attempting to wrestle Mey-Rin into a puffy, elaborate dress done in pastel purple chiffon. He blushes a little when the dress rides up, revealing the layers of petticoats underneath, but quickly recovers.

"Let her be," he sighs, and Elizabeth stops fussing over Mey-Rin, who adjusts her hair and pushes her glasses up, looking down at her new outfit and shaking her head.

"What do you think?" Elizabeth coos at the maid.

"It's… why, it's lovely, my lady." Mey-Rin replies through clenched teeth.

Ciel reaches the bottom of the staircase only to be engulfed in another suffocating hug.

"You're so cute, Ciel! I told you that you would, didn't I? Oh, what a lovely pair we'll make!" Elizabeth releases him long enough to dance an imaginary waltz, a dreamy expression on her face.

"Everyone will be so jealous of us! We'll be the envy of the whole party, just like Aunt Rachel always was-"

Elizabeth goes abruptly quiet, realizing her mistake almost immediately. Ciel's fists clench. Lizzie's eyes are drawn to the motion and she clucks her tongue, taking his hand in hers.

"Where is the ring I bought you? The one that matched your clothes?"

Ciel scowls. "This one suits me just fine, Elizabeth."

"Call me _Lizzie._ You won't be cute at all like this! Give me your ring, I'll replace it with the new one," she says, and goes to forcibly remove the ring from Ciel's thumb.

.

"That will not end well for her," Castiel rumbles. Dean nods idly in response, eyes focused intently on the currently-human kid in front of them.

It's like watching a soap opera. Dean loves soap operas.

Sam, however, is bored out of his mind. He amuses himself by watching the servants in the background. They keep stumbling everywhere, breaking things and then frenzying to clean them up before anyone notices.

He's never met a cleaning staff so hopeless, and he's been in enough shitty motels that that title is an accomplishment.

He laughs out loud when Finny trips over his own feet and ends up putting a two-foot crack in the floor when he lands on it. Dean glares, shushing him and gesturing to the flashback scene playing in front of them like an irritated movie theater patron.

Sam sighs and settles in for a long night of demon-watching. Hopefully Ciel has some interesting memories coming up soon.

Bobby is having similar problems paying attention. He can't help stealing glances at Sebastian and the unconscious version of Ciel that are sitting off to the side. They're not as uncomfortably close as before, thankfully, but they're still putting off a feeling of _creep._

Maybe it's a demon thing. Bobby hasn't hung around many demons for long enough to find out. But somehow, even asleep, Ciel still manages to exude some weird aura that makes Bobby's skin crawl.

Ciel's face contorts in his sleep and Bobby shudders.

.

"You'll be much better off without this," Elizabeth says, turning Ciel's heirloom ring over and over in her palms. "It's too big for you, anyway. In fact, I don't know why you even own it."

A strange expression comes over her face, like Edward's when they all three used to play together in the gardens and he would shove Ciel to the ground. Spoiled. Dark.

She raises her arm above her head and slams the ring to the tile.

"I've always hated that ring," she says, pleased. She doesn't seem to notice Ciel's expression as he stares at the broken shards of sapphire scattered across the floor.

"That was mine," he says dimly. "That was mine and you broke it, you stupid, _stupid_ girl."

Elizabeth's face crumples, her eyes brimming with crocodile tears. She sniffles.

"How could you be so cruel?" She wails, and Ciel is so sick of dramatics.

He stalks forward, feeling the annoyance he's been experiencing all day come to a head. He's angry. He woke up angry and he went through the day angry and now he's mad enough to do something drastic.

He lunges for Elizabeth, his hand raised, about to deliver a blow.

His hand is stopped inches from her face.

"Young master, you've forgotten your cane," a cool voice interjects, and Sebastian steps into Ciel's line of sight, erasing the red that had been blurring Ciel's vision by virtue of his mere presence.

"Ah, yes," he replies from somewhere far away. "How could I have forgotten? Bring it here, Sebastian." His hand slowly drops back to his side.

Inhale. Exhale.

When Sebastian hands him his walking stick, it takes him a few tries to grasp it properly. All he can focus on are the broken pieces of metal on the ground and the silk baritone of Sebastian's voice.

"Lady Elizabeth, I believe it would be best for you as well as my lord if you left the room. I'm sure there is more decorating to be done in the parlor."

"Why… yes, I think so, too." Elizabeth stammers, taking a moment to come out of her shock. Ciel's never come so close to hitting her before, and she's having difficulty processing it. She walks out of the foyer almost in a trance.

That leaves Sebastian and Ciel alone in the room with the remains of Ciel's connection to his family. They stay there together for a long while, Sebastian's hand on Ciel's shoulder grounding him to reality.

"Breathe, my lord," he says, too loud in the silence of the room.

Ciel takes several long, shuddering breaths. Then he stoops over and gathers up the pieces of jewelry in his hands. He walks over to the window and pushes it open.

He flings the bits of ring into the garden.

"And what was the point of that, may I ask?"

Ciel turns around, back straight and prim and proper. Just as usual.

"It was just a useless ring. It no longer held worth, so I threw it out. Even without that thing, I am still the head of the Phantomhives. And," he steps out to the parlor. "Elizabeth is still my fiancé. It is the greatest shame to make a lady cry."

"Indeed. Shall I prepare tea for the parlor?"

"Two cups, if you would."

Ciel strides into the parlor to find Elizabeth, sitting in an armchair and dabbing at her makeup with a handkerchief. She tries to smile when she sees him, but she can't quite manage it. She takes her hands and folds them in her lap, tucking the handkerchief away.

Paula is glaring at him from her spot behind Lizzie. Ciel ignores her.

"It's just a useless old ring. It doesn't matter. Even without it, I am still head of the Phantomhives." He takes her hand in his. "And you are still my lovely fiancé. So stop crying, Lizzie. Please?"

Elizabeth laughs wetly.

"Anything for you, Ciel."

.

"Is it weird that I'm glad they made up?" Sam asks. Dean shushes him.

.

That night, the shadows cast on Ciel's wall seem larger. More imposing. Creeping and dangerous in the flickering candlelight.

Sebastian comes in to change Ciel's clothes. He finishes buttoning up Ciel's nightshirt, and then he takes Ciel's hand and slides a perfectly intact ring onto his thumb.

Ciel gawks at his butler. Sebastian just smirks.

"This is important to you, yet you showed off for Lady Elizabeth. A Phantomhive butler who can't do this isn't worth his salt. This ring exists to be on your finger. Cherish it."

He blows out the candles and leaves without another word.

Ciel doesn't sleep for a long while afterwards, just stays awake running his hands over the ring, searching for any flaws. He can't find even one nick in the metal or the gem. It truly is a perfect recreation.

He finally falls asleep with the ring on his thumb where it's meant to be, like it had never been broken in the first place.

.

 **Next chapter is going to have a LOT more of the Supernatural boys. I know that some of you guys were upset that they didn't get a lot of time last chapter, and they didn't really have a lot in this one either, but next chapter. Oh boy.**


End file.
